


the iron door

by VITAMX



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Fainting, Gen, Hermitcraft - Freeform, Hermitcraft season 6, Horror, Kinda?, Lowercase, Mechanical Body Horror, Mild Gore, fnaf au, hermitcraft au, i only say fnaf au kinda because its my inspo :p, mechanical gore, so far only of npc though!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22288567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VITAMX/pseuds/VITAMX
Summary: in the midst of season 6, mumbo finds himself having to take care of one of grian's old projects while he's away.
Relationships: Grian & NPC Grian, Mumbo Jumbo & Grian, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 190





	1. Chapter 1

\---

grian had made quite the first impression when he had entered the hermitcraft server.

carrying a body bag that clanked whenever it moved in the slightest- some hermits even said it moved by itself- it was obvious as to why that was.

when xisuma had asked, he had simply grinned and laughed, saying it was an incomplete project he couldn't possibly leave behind.

what kind of project? a redstone one.

so that bag is filled with redstone parts? not exactly.

then what is in the bag? i told you- an incomplete project. nothing dangerous, don't worry...

there might have been a day or two of suspicion, but the minute that body bag disappeared somewhere unknown, no one really seemed to question it.

especially not when he had started a chain of events that led to a chaotic game of tag, a pickle shop with no exit, and after that came prank after prank after prank... and after that, there was the prank war, and the architechs, and sahara, and the build-off...

needless to say, with such a chaotic server, it was easy to forget something as minuscule as a large bag with, most likely, iron and redstone parts in it.

however, one fateful, chilly afternoon mumbo had received a flurry of messages from his good friend grian.

> **grianmc:** do you remember the bag i brought with me into the world?
> 
> **mumbojumbo is typing...**
> 
> **mumbojumbo:** why yes, i do!
> 
> **mumbojumbo:** you said it was an "unfinished project" right?
> 
> **grianmc:** yes yes
> 
> **grianmc:** this may sound a bit odd but can you,
> 
> **grianmc:** keep an eye on it while im away for the week? like... just some regular maintenance checks
> 
> **grianmc:** nothing too difficult, promise

curious as to whatever (likely horrid and broken) contraption grian had been working on over the season, mumbo agreed without much thought.

> **mumbojumbo:** sure i can!
> 
> **mumbojumbo:** where are you going?
> 
> **grianmc is typing...**
> 
> **grianmc:** just to an old server. to check up on things
> 
> **grianmc:** and thanks. i mean it
> 
> **grianmc:** i also made some recordings and stuff to help, uh
> 
> **grianmc:** guide you through the maintenance checks and stuff
> 
> **grianmc is typing...**
> 
> **grianmc is typing...**
> 
> **grianmc:** the, project, is in the sunken ship- the one that was my starter base.
> 
> **grianmc is typing...**
> 
> **grianmc:** dont freak out when you see it

the last message made mumbo pause, his fingers hesitating over the keypad of the communicator as he typed out his own response to it.

> **mumbojumbo:** why would i freak out?
> 
> _**> grianmc has left the world.** _
> 
> **mumbojumbo:** grian?

\---

that night, mumbo had flown over to the sunken ship-in-a-bottle, as grian had instructed.

although his clothes got quite damp from the trip down, which left him in a sour mood, the comforting, almost rustic atmosphere calmed him down greatly and nearly instantaneously.

the plain, simple garden in front of the ship was also still well taken care of, even after nearly a year and a half of the season starting.

wringing out his tie and hair, mumbo quickly shook the water off of himself, hugging himself to warm up as best he could.

as he entered the actual shipwreck itself, a strong scent of wood filled the room. although it was cramped and rather small, was very cozy and welcoming.

entering the next room over, mumbo's eyes landed on a sign that was placed above an iron trapdoor- on the wooden floor in front of it was a stone button.

**mumbo**

**(or whoever might have come here instead):**

**push the button and go down the ladder**

**to check on the project**

placing his foot on the button, mumbo pressed down and quickly climbed down the ladder, which seemed to go on for quite a long while. the pathway down was dark and cold, unlit and chilling to the bone.

by the time he had reached the end, he could see void particles rising through the floor and felt the familiar, faint tug of the void.

in front of him was an iron door.

the iron door's windows were blocked with stone, and there seemed to be no button or lever to open it.

the room he himself was in was hardly decorated and was made entirely of stone and gravel and dirt.

the only light source was a redstone torch placed in the corner of the room- how there were no mobs that had spawned, mumbo did not know.

but as he stepped closer to the iron door, he began to hear a faint noise.

ignoring the unease he felt, mumbo pressed his ear against the door...

and he heard _breathing_.

whirred, raspy, and heavy breathing, pressed against the other side of the iron door.

the breathing came out in near gasps, the breathing seemed desperate and hysterical.

mumbo quickly stepped back, uncertainty swallowing him whole and leaving him with nothing but dread and unrelenting unease.

stumbling backwards, mumbo nearly tripped over a small device that lay clattered against the floor. upon closer inspection, he saw the faint outline of a communicator, a dim red light overlaying the screen. upon the darkened screen was a simple audio file, titled "MCHECK_01.mp3".

with only a few seconds of hesitance, mumbo opened the file, and turned the volume up.

_"um... hello, hello? is this thing recording?"_

grian's voice echoed throughout the empty room.

_"ah, good! so, erm... hello! this is grian, though i hope that's obvious. thanks for taking on the job, um- whoever it is that accepted."_

mumbo slowly sat himself on the cold ground, gaze unwavering as he stared at the iron door.

_"now, i know it's super dark and all down here, but... think of this as rule #1. DO NOT! i repeat do NOT! put any more light sources in here than there already is. he- i, i mean it doesn't like bright lights. at least not in this state."_

_"its just a simple NPC, so it shouldn't be too dangerous to maintain. if you go through the door, which, uh, you'll have to make your own button or lever- two of them actually, it should be slumped against the corner all broken-machiney like."_

mumbo paused the recording, slowly pulling out a button from his inventory.

grian said it wouldn't be dangerous- plus, what were the chances that grian would make some sort of dangerous machine that would harm him? close to none, he'd say.

he firmly pressed the button aside the door until it was fully mounted on the wall, and held the palm of his hand over it, reluctant to press it.

he pressed his ear against the iron door once more, hand slipping away from the button on the wall.

the breathing was gone; the room was dead silent.

letting out a breath he was unaware to have been holding, mumbo picked up the communicator on the ground and firmly pressed the button, stepping inside of the other room.

the door shut with a _clink_ , and once again he was met with a dark room with a single redstone torch in the corner.

the only difference he could see was that the room was made of spruce wood and logs, and was much more narrow than the previous opening.

the floor creaked beneath him as he reached out to grab onto the redstone torch propped on the wall.

so far, he did not see any machine- though it was more likely that said machine was just in the other corner, which had no light reflected onto it.

bringing the torch closer to the other side of the wooden room, mumbo stalked forward with caution, squinting his eyes to try and make out any outline of a machine.

what he stumbled across was more complex than any redstone contraption he'd ever seen.

what he came upon was a disturbing sight that sent shivers up his spine.

collapsed in the corner of the room was a replica of grian.

the side of its face was sprawled open, revealing its internal metal skeleton, and oil and redstone were bubbling down the side of that skeleton's mouth, staining its iron teeth.

its eyes were cast downward, dull and black, and the bottom half of its shirt was torn off, revealing an iron ribcage with missing bolts and cut wires, burn marks and scratches.

its right leg up to its knee was missing entirely, red and blue uneven wires sprawling out across the floor. its hands were missing a few fingers.

it was hard to look at an NPC replica of your close friend and call it an... well, "it".

especially in the condition it was in.

shakily leaning down and placing the torch upon the floor, never looking away from the machine, mumbo pulled out the communicator and continued playing the audio file.

_"...so, you probably saw it, and freaked out a little bit, am i right? well. i guess it's pretty normal to do that- sorry for the scare. i guess we can just move along with the maintenance check ASAP, huh?"_

the head of the machine creaked ever so slightly, turning to look at mumbo the minute his eyes looked downward.

_"for now, you can just push any parts of its body that have... popped out, so to speak. sometimes it's its face, sometimes it's its arm... i think its locks are kind of broken. all you gotta do is push it back into place until it clicks. after that, just make sure it's powered down all the way- the power button is on the back of its neck. if it's green, press and hold until it turns red."_

the recording ended; the communicator shutting off by itself.

looking up at the NPC, he froze up, eyes locking instantly with black and empty eyes.

hadn't NPC been facing towards the ground...?

no, no, he must have just been imagining things, there's no way the broken down and tattered machine in front of him could have moved.

it was as still as a stone, unmoving and unwavering.

swallowing a lump in his throat, mumbo reached his hand forward, pressing against one of the three sections of the NPC's face, and clicked it back into place.

reaching both hands out this time, he swiftly pushed the other pieces of its face back, retreating his hands the minute the pieces clicked into place.

why was he so nervous? there was nothing to be nervous about.

it was just a broken machine, nothing more and nothing less.

pushing its head forward, mumbo peered behind the NPC, a chill running down his spine as he saw a bright green button on the backside of its neck.

recalling grian's instructions, mumbo quickly pressed the button, holding it down for one second, two seconds, three seconds, and finally-

_**"HELLO, MY NAME IS NPC GRI-AN- NPC GR- NP- N- N- N- N-N-N-N-N-"** _

jumping back with a scream, mumbo fell onto the floor, scrambling away from the NPC fearfully, its voice screeching loudly and its body twitching sporadically.

his heart beating loudly in his chest, and he locked eyes with the reddened irises of the machine before him.

after a few more seconds of jittering and glitchy screaming, the NPC seemed to shut down completely, its eyes flickering back into nothingness.

mumbo heaved, stumbling up to his feet once more. after quickly and skittishly checking to see if the power button was red (which it was), he quickly ran to the iron door, slamming a button down and opening the iron door immediately.

elytra equipped and rockets in hand, mumbo flew upwards and out of the sunken ship as fast as he possibly could.

even as he reached his base, he could feel his heart racing still.

\---


	2. Chapter 2

\---

the day went by swiftly as usual- mumbo tinkered with a few bits and pieces of sahara's tech and only slightly wondered if every machine he touched would start looking at him and screaming.

in all honesty, he didn't know _why_ he was getting so worked up over a- over a _broken machine_ that just so happened to activate on accident.

it happened all the time with countless other redstone projects of his.

there was absolutely nothing strange about it.

_(of course, that's just what he told himself.)_

soon the night befell him, and he wondered if it was really worth the trouble of going back over to the room with the iron door; to go back to that NPC, to go back to the chilling room it was kept in.

though he really had no choice, in reality.

grian was counting on him to keep it in check while he was gone, to make sure it didn't break down more than it already had.

he couldn't just avoid the task he had _promised_ to do.

what would grian think if he came back to find he hadn't checked up on the thing all because it jump-scared him a bit?

well- he'd laugh, first of all. _then_ would come the disappointment.

and frankly, mumbo wasn't sure he could handle that.

after half an hour of making up excuses to delay the trip over to the shipwreck, mumbo set off, the sound of rockets filling the starry sky.

\---

grian's giant, awe-inspiring base came into view in less than a minute, still standing out like a blue sticker on a red wall despite the darkness of the night.

sucking in his breath, mumbo curved downwards, dunking into the icy, salty ocean water in a matter of seconds.

wincing from the cold, mumbo pushed through the water (thankfully coming into contact with the conduit's effects soon after), and squeezed through the gap that separated the water from the shipwreck.

the garden afront it was still lovely and charming, and the faint smell of wood soon greeted him.

he wasted no time in entering the ship itself, making a bee-line towards the iron trapdoor and ladder passage.

the trek down to bedrock was as tiring as it was last time, the temperature dropping more and more as he reached the end. a chill ran down his spine as he finally stepped away and into the room.

the iron door greeted him silently.

in the same spot as before, the communicator (which was likely grian's) lay untouched upon the cold stone ground.

leaning down, mumbo picked it up gently, wincing at how it felt like dry ice on his skin, with how cold it was on the surface. as the screen flickered on, he squinted his eyes at the bright light that accompanied it, quickly turning the brightness of the screen down.

on the screen was a new recording: "MCHECK_02.mp3".

rubbing his eyes, mumbo walked through the iron door, communicator in hand. the door clicked behind him softly, and all of a sudden he felt very _small_.

it's not like the room was unfamiliar- there wasn't much to be unfamiliar about at this point- but rather what was _in_ the room still disturbed him.

a redstone torch was placed in the corner of the wall- right where he had left it last time. the NPC lay crumpled beneath it.

raising the communicator up, mumbo opened the audio file and played it, glancing back at the NPC frequently as it loaded.

_"erm... so, uh, day 2, huh? thanks for coming back, i suppose! um... i- i really hope you're not too spooked about the whole NPC lookalike of me. but, it's harmless! ...mostly. um- the NPC, it can get a little violent at times, b-but only if you aggravate it! that's, uh, kind of why it got itself so messed up like that. _ _i... really should have mentioned that in the last recording. oh well, too late to go back and redo it. but, hey! if you're listening to this, that means you did well last time! so, uh... yeah, good job, good job... ..."_

a pit of dread grew in mumbo's gut as he listened to more and more of the recording. pausing it abruptly, he exhaled slowly, trying not to linger too much on a few parts of it.

"a few parts of it" meaning specifically the part where he mentions the NPC can get "violent".

what entails getting violent? does it mean more screaming and jittering? or does it mean the NPC could somehow get up and start punching him in the ribcage???

mumbo really didn't want to find out.

after a few moments of his thoughts swarming his own head, mumbo resumed the recording.

_"that being said! this time i think it'd be best to do a sort of... audio check? i don't think that's the right word for it- like, playing a sound and writing down how it reacts... if you're up to that, then you'd better get a pen and paper out- i'll play about three different sounds. write down if it reacts or if it doesn't. reacting can be like- its voice-box activating, or its eyes flickering..."_

pulling a face, mumbo reluctantly looked into his inventory, finding only a birch sign on him. he sighed, pulled it out, and figured it would have to do.

he'd make sure to bring a book and quill next time for sure.

(though he wasn't really sure he wanted there to _be_ a next time, if he was honest.)

_"okay... playing sound #1 in one... two... three..."_

instantly, a sharp ringing noise filled the dusty room, making mumbo flinch.

it sounded like a dog whistle almost, though more screech-like.

the NPC did not move an inch- nothing had changed.

he scribbled down a _"no"_ next to the first bullet point he had drawn.

_"playing sound #2 in one... two... three..."_

this time, the sound was pure white noise- white noise that filled mumbo's ears and nearly gave him a headache.

looking up from the sign, mumbo froze.

the NPC was looking directly at him, leaning forward ever so slightly.

its eyes glowed with a red ring styled pupil, flickering in and out.

a little shaken, and rightfully so, mumbo swiftly wrote down a _"YES"_ in all capitals, his handwriting more messy than it usually was.

he glanced up at the NPC between every letter he wrote down.

_"playing sound #3 in one-"_

the audio cut into a quiet static, buzzing and humming in infrequent ratios.

slowly looking up, mumbo's blood ran cold.

_**"he is a liar, you know..."** _

the damned machine was talking- _whispering_ to him.

its voice was mangled and scratched, raspy and barely coherent.

it was deep and guttural, but quiet and placid all the same.

absolute _fear_ grabbed ahold of mumbo. he had to get out- had to get out _fast_.

but the machine kept whispering to him.

_**"he tells you i have broken myself."** _

the NPC lets out a soft, almost silent laugh.

_**"he lies to you."** _

mumbo tried to move his legs, tried to run like _hell_.

why weren't they moving?

he didn't _want_ to listen to any more of what this broken-down, glitched _machine_ was telling him, so why couldn't he move?

the NPC looks him up and down, its head barely moving, and the damn thing _smiles_ at him.

_**"i am not mechanical. i am alive. i am waiting... breathing... listening..."** _

_**"...can you hear me? mumbo?"** _

mumbo resists the urge to hurl, and he finally gets himself to move.

he sprints out of the room, the iron door slamming behind him, and his hands are clasped over his mouth, his jaw clenched.

the quiet room suddenly fills with a loud _BANG-_ mumbo trips, stumbling backwards as he swerves around to face the iron door.

the NPC is banging and punching the iron door, and in between the sharp clangs and banging that filled the dimly lit room, mumbo hears the same whirred, desperate, and rasped breathing and heaving he had heard the moment he pressed his ear against that iron door.

he runs without a second thought, a lump in his throat and his hands shaking, and he flies upward.

his arms are scraped slightly by the ladders, but he could hardly care.

even after he shut the trapdoor and collapsed inside the shipwreck, he could still hear the iron door banging from beneath the world.

\---


	3. Chapter 3

\---

mumbo liked to think he was fairly headstrong, that he could push through anything and find a solution for any problem. of course, more often than not, that didn't turn out to be exactly _true,_ but he still liked to believe he could do anything he set his mind to.

that type of thinking is what led him to accepting grian's offer on managing his _"project"_ while he was gone, it was what put him in this _seriously creepy_ situation.

he didn't want to think about the NPC's tattered body, didn't want to think about its wide, mechanical eyes, didn't want to think about its _voice_.

"it's just a machine, mumbo. nothing more," he told himself as he tossed and turned in his bed after the events of his second visit.

of course, mumbo was a smart man. he knew there was something beyond what grian had told him- and while he didn't like to distrust his friend, arguably his _best_ friend, he couldn't help but question if what grian said was true.

_(he tried his best not to follow that line of thinking. he didn't want to believe, not even for a second, that grian would tear apart a person like that.)_

though, what else could the NPC possibly be? he saw its metal skeleton, its wires and cogs.

"just a machine," mumbo muttered to himself once more, the morning sunbeams filtering into his room.

it must be some prank that grian was playing, mumbo thought. he must have programmed those reactions, the dialogue. he must have purposefully cut off the second recording, just to spook mumbo.

_(it was payback for the last prank mumbo pulled on grian, he told himself, even if he couldn't remember for the life of him when he last pranked grian, nor what said prank was.)_

he didn't care if the nature of the prank didn't make any sense- it made more sense than any other theories he came up with. it was better than believing he had been performing maintenance on a living being, better than believing his friend had, whether intentional or not, tossed a living being in that dark and lonely room, beyond the iron door.

and so, the next day, as the sun was only just beginning to set, he made his way towards the shipwreck once more.

once he had arrived above the ocean water where the shipwreck lay, he inhaled sharply, turning down and diving into the water within seconds. when the icy water splashed around him as he made his way down, down, and downward more, the chill clung to his skin even after the conduit came into effect, and even as he was shaking off seaweed from his hair inside the shipwreck's bottle.

rubbing his hands together swiftly, mumbo's eyes darted around the room as he emptied his pockets, save for a few buttons and redstone material- and his eyes caught the glint of an iron axe, cast aside in one of grian's old storage chests.

he only thought about it briefly, really- but in the end, as he made his way down the worn-out ladder, the faint weight of the axe in his inventory served only to comfort him.

how else would he protect himself if the NPC began to act "violent" once more? use his _fists_? his hands would do nothing against the ashen metal skin and rusted wires of the NPC.

he climbed his way down, his back occasionally scraping against the stone only one block behind him. he thought of leaving the NPC all alone, behind the iron door, of leaving it to decompose, and that dealing with the consequences later would be a far better fate than facing the disturbing replica of grian.

he quickly cast aside those thoughts. he promised grian. he _promised_. and besides- it's just a robot. just an NPC. just a _machine_.

the numb and cold pull of the void welcomes mumbo as his feet land upon the stone ground, the room encased in a familiar darkness. on the floor, in the center of the room, was the communicator, screen flickering on and off, its faint light blinking.

stepping forward, footsteps tapping loudly against the ground, mumbo bent down and picked up the flickering communicator. a few notifications, asking grian for favors or inviting him to hang out before realizing he was away.

he dismisses them with a sigh, and turns the communicator around to shine its light over on the iron door.

his heart leaps in his throat, and he nearly drops the communicator on the ground as he scrambles backwards.

sprawled between a small crack in the door was the NPC. its body was nearly crushed as the door pushed against it, trying to shut itself closed.

oil and redstone leaked from a hole in the NPC's metal lungs, bits and pieces of wiring strewn about. as mumbo's eyes flicker around the dimly lit room for some explanation, he spots the button laid against the wall, and his stomach fills with dread.

the _buttons_.

he should've been taking off the buttons by the door.

setting the communicator down slowly, bringing out a redstone torch even slower, mumbo reaches over and pushes the door open more, ever so slightly. he watches for any signs of movement from the machine, carefully stepping over it with shaking legs.

he makes it to the other side of the iron door, and he grabs hold of the NPC's broken, marred, and disfigured legs, pulling it away slowly, _carefully_...

its metal skin scrapes against the floor loudly. mumbo's ears ring.

the iron door slams shut with a _clang_ , and the NPC lay unmoving still. mumbo moves his hands away swiftly, wiping off the excess stains on his pants, and he grabs onto the communicator once again, rubbing his eyes with his wrist.

he opens it up, and closes the previous audio file. there was no need to continue it, mumbo thinks, not after what happened the last time.

he pushes aside any thoughts of "last time", and opens up "MCHECK_03.mp3", staring down at the NPC.

he doesn't take his eyes off of it for a second.

_"so..."_ grian's voice speaks out through the communicator's speaker. there's a faint crackling noise in the background. _"i take it by now you're wondering why you keep coming back. that's-"_

grian's voice falls silent as a loud _BANG!_ echoes from the speakers, and mumbo flinches, eyes darting towards the communicator, then the iron door, and then rests his eyes upon the NPC once more.

he's starting to feel a little sick, if he's honest.

he hears grian inhale, and the grip on the communicator tightens as grian speaks up once more.

_"...that's, because... it's... the- the NPC is a very broken model. i didn't know what i was doing when i made it. i think i... tried to make it human."_

grian's voice falls silent for a little while longer, and the NPC's left eye flickers on before shutting off again.

mumbo's fingers twitch towards his pocket, where the axe lay in his inventory.

_"...it's just a machine though. a very broken, very glitched, very destroyed machine. e-everything it does was in the original programming. it just... doesn't know when to activate certain commands. yeah."_

for a second, mumbo thinks that maybe grian is trying to convince himself rather than him, but he quickly pushes the thought aside, rubbing at his eyes once more.

_(the air was dusty- dustier than normal, anyway. strange.)_

_"...anyways. might as well move on with the maintenance checks. push in any parts of its face or arms or- whatever's popped out, and then we can go from there."_

mumbo glances down at the communicator, pausing the audio that's playing. looking back down at the NPC, he sighs quietly, eyeing the several pieces of it face that have popped out of place.

the only one _in_ place was the piece surrounding its right eye- the rest was snapped aside, and the machine's metal skull was out for him to see, redstone and oil and faded paint staining it all over.

shivers ran down mumbo's spine.

why _did_ grian make the NPC so human-like; so alike to himself? even with its paint scraping off in certain places, even with stains and leaks and malfunctions, mumbo still had trouble distinguishing the NPC from grian.

mumbo took a step closer, pocketing the communicator temporarily, and peered closer at the NPC's face in morbid curiosity.

it was difficult to see anything past the flood of redstone and oil leaking from every joint, but even then, he could clearly see the NPC's skull.

its teeth were jagged and out of order with a few missing, its tongue _(why would an NPC need a tongue?) _had a hole in its side as if an arrow had pierced through it, and its eyes had wires sprouting from behind them, faint, barely noticeable sparks flashing now and then.

he never had a chance to really look at it much, not with its face clicked into place.

mumbo pushed down the nausea swelling in his stomach and reached his hands forward to click the NPC's face back into place.

his hands stutter and flinch back at every sound made, jittery and frantic. when its face was finally back in place, he leaned back, staring emptily at the NPC's features.

it looked so _human_. it looked _alive_.

the NPC's eyes flickered red for one second, then two, and then they flickered off, staring into nothing.

it seemed so much more unresponsive than the last few times mumbo had come here- maybe getting caught between the door had damaged it somehow, so that it couldn't react as much?

_(he shouldn't be so hopeful for such a thing.)_

letting a bit of tension leave his shoulders, mumbo reached for the communicator once more, eyes flickering down as he played the audio file once more.

_"once you're- once that's done, you're pretty much good to go for, uh... touching it, i suppose."_ grian's voice, the _actual_ grian's voice, echoes throughout the dusty room.

_"every once in a while, i like to clean up all the dust in the room so that, um, when it- when it glitches out, the dust doesn't spread out in the air everywhere."_

mumbo's eyes squint, flickering towards the communicator as he leans backwards against the wall.

'glitches out'? what did grian mean by-

his thoughts stutter to an end, jerking forward off the wall as he spins around to face it.

the faint glow of the communicator shines against the wooden planks, and deeply indented in those planks are claw marks and dents, oil and redstone flickered across the wall in a chaotic spray. dust is visible in the light of the screen, heavily clumping together in the air.

dread pools in his gut.

the audio file continues playing.

_"sometimes it'll just, you know, scramble around or try breaking ou- blocks, breaking blocks. using cobwebs usually works but, if you don't have any, i suppose you can do it whenever, if you don't mind sneezing a lot, and dust getting in your eyes."_

the audio file ends right as mumbo's eyes begin to water. his nose scrunches up, and the communicator clatters to the ground loudly as he brings his arm up to his face and sneezes.

when his eyes crack open, they burn, and he rubs at them frantically before yelling out, faint traces of oil and redstone tainting his hands and now his eyes, and he has to hold onto them tightly to keep himself from touching his eyes any more.

"god _dammit_!" he yells out hoarsely, teeth grit as he slams his eyes shut once more. he hisses through his teeth, forcing his eyes open to search for the communicator he'd dropped.

maybe if he's lucky, he can find the communicator quickly- though its screen had shut off, leaving the room in near darkness, so he fumbles a hand into his inventory to search for his own communicator.

a metal hand clasps around his ankle instead.

**"don't- don't- don't- don't- go-!"** the NPC's voice croaks out, its voice filled with static. **"stay... i can tell you- tell you- everything."**

the hand digs into his skin painfully, ripping some of the cloth on his pants, and he _shrieks_. the hand _pulls,_ and he tumbles over, the side of his face hitting the floor. he rolls over on his back and scrambles away from the NPC, its body barely visible in the darkness of the room- the redstone torch too far away to provide any meaningful light.

_(the only thing he can see is the hand, mangled and metal and broken, its grip unnervingly strong nonetheless.)_

he raises his other leg and kicks it frantically in the air, hoping to knock it into the NPC's face. his foot connects with nothing but air the first few kicks, until finally, a loud _CLANG!_ echoes through the room, and the NPC lets out a screech that leaves mumbo's ears ringing in pain.

he's able to scramble up again, using the beaten-up wall behind him as support, and he can hear the NPC's body scraping against the floor as he drags himself to his feet.

he's dazed and scared and frantic and he can barely keep his eyes open, so maybe that's why the only thing mumbo can think to do at that moment is take out the iron axe he'd stolen and-

he brings down the axe's blade against the NPC's wrist, the one connected to the very hand grasping at his ankle, forcing his burning eyes to stay open, and the sound of metal-against-metal scrapes his ears painfully.

it doesn't come off in one slash like he'd hoped- instead it takes four cuts from the axe to sever the NPC's hand from the rest of its body, and the NPC _won't stop screaming_.

_(mumbo nearly sobs as he realizes the hand still won't let go.)_

he stumbles and trips over the screaming NPC, pushing the iron door open, slamming it shut with his whole body.

he slides to the ground, eyes shut tightly as his hands shake, ears ringing as the NPC screams and shrieks and bangs against the iron door.

blindly reaching for his own communicator, he cracks his eyes open painfully, barely making out the button to enter the general chat, and struggles to keep them open as he types out a desperate message attached to his coordinates.

_(the metal hand digging into his ankle has not loosened. if anything, it's gotten tighter.)_

his ankle is starting to go numb, he thinks, before his vision goes dark, heart pounding from adrenaline and fear.

\---

> **mumboJumbo** : hekp
> 
> **mumboJumbo has sent their coordinates.**
> 
> **stressmonster101** : mumbo? :(
> 
> **iskall85** : you good?

\---


End file.
